I sang in my first recording studio today…..and maybe my last. The pressure had been secretly building in me all day, a glorious array of emotions; ranging from nerves through to elation. A friend of mine had offered the use of his studio for my Bethel audition. No mic’s was the deal, good accoustics was the promise. Free of charge. I was one lucky girl.
Walking into the studio, I let out a deep breath and marvelled at my surroundings. Timber cladding blanketed the walls, large framed windows quietly boasted several breakout rooms and giant sound absorbers suspending in elegant arrangement, occupied the ceiling. In the centre of the room, a small camera complete with tripod, sat poised, ready to go. It was waiting for me. They were waiting for me. Guitar, lead vocals and “soundie” all present. I was in the hands of professionals……and I felt like an amateur.
I worked hard to shake off the nerves; laughing and joking my way through the inner awkwardness I felt. The first strums of the guitar rang out in the studio, bouncing off the walls. We began to sing. Forcing myself to ignore the camera, the lights, the microphones and the sound man through the window took some effort.
One run through later, I was re-positioned, closer to the mic, further away from the leading lady. “Your voice is blending in too much with the lead singer, you need to stand out”. I didn’t want to stand out. This was not the role of a backing vocal (BV). Of this I was adamant. How does one add to the dynamics of the song as a BV, being sensitive to its “feel”……… if they are lime lighting instead?
And how does one worship the Lord in a recording studio? With lights, with camera’s and recording gear designed to collect every sound you make, every motion of your hand, every expression in your face. It seemed fake to me, rehearsed and staged.
I came away from that experience perplexed, at war within myself. Was I pitchy? Had I drowned out the lead singer with my overused strained voice? A little voice…. a voice I thought had long ago been silenced, recycled itself quietly over and over again in my head. That age old question rearing its ugly head. Am I enough? What a surprise to find that question still tucked away in a secret corner of my mind. Am I enough.
YES. Yes is the answer, I realised upon reflection. Not because I’ll make the cut, or ever sing on a stage necessarily. That decision rests in my Fathers hand now, not my own (thank goodness). His plans for me are best. He alone knows the best fit for the talents in my hands, my head and my heart. And actually, without those talents, even then, I am enough. I am already enough. Period.
I will choose to trust Him. Because He is trustworthy.